Hi! I'm back! And this time with another original chapter. And this is a chapter I've been wanting to do for quite some time. And my timing couldn't be better, since this chapter is perfect for Halloween.
Warning: This chapter may be darker than others, due to the backstory being based on a real life murder case. And after reading it, it will become apparent which one. This chapter has content that many people-myself included-find objectionable, such as child abduction and murder, pedophilia, and molestation. The "M" rating is very much in effect here, but it's nothing too explicit. I wouldn't dream of writing a scene of that nature involving a child. Nonetheless, in order to honor the memory of these children, I feel it's best to describe exactly what they went through.
Read and review!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ghosts
A California Neighborhood-1-33 AM
A single farmhouse sat perfectly sequestered among its more modern counterparts. Of all the houses on this particular street, this one stood out the most.
Not for its small and compact nature, nor for its architectural style. Nor for the fact that the area around it used to be farmland and there was still the remnant of an old chicken coop on its premises. It wasn't even for its... particularly violent and disturbing history.
No, it was noteworthy because residents of the area considered the house, and everything that used to be open land around it haunted.
A single "For Sale" sign was wedged into the front lawn of the house, just below the window. But no one had bought it in years. And there was even a rumor of a petition to have it demolished. But it was such a prime piece of real estate that no developer would touch it. That... and also because in many ways, this house served as a grave marker.
Even so, the rumors of its paranormal activity prevented everyone who lived in this Southern California community from going anywhere near it.
Well... not quite everyone.
Behind the fence that encircled the backyard, two boys, one African-American, one Caucasian looked over the backyard.
They were both 12, easily convinced, and above all, neither could say no to a dare.
Well, one was more reluctant than his companion, at least.
"Do I really have to this?" the African-American boy, Ron Braswell by name, said. Anyone could tell by his shaking that he really did not want to be here.
"Come on, Ron," the other boy said, nudging him. This boy was named Brian Griffin, and didn't display the same fear as his friend.
"You want everyone at school to call you chicken for the rest of your life?"
Ron, turning to his friend, shrugged.
"Better than being dead," he fired back.
Brian sighed in disbelief, giving his friend another nudge... well, "shove" might have been the more accurate term.
"Listen," he explained to the terrified boy. "Just five minutes in that place, and you'll never have to come back here again."
But Ron, more afraid of the ominous looking plot of land before him than his friend, defiantly stamped a foot into the ground.
"Forget it!" he refused. "I'm outta here!"
"Fine," Brian said as Ron walked away. "Wimp out. I'll just tell everyone about the picture of Gwen Daymond you have in your locker!"
Ron immediately stopped walking and sighed in frustration.
Turning around, still shaking, he walked back up to the chain-link fence and began to climb it.
"Not cool, man," he said.
Brian ignored him.
Landing in the backyard, Ron looked around.
It may have been dark, but he could still make out the house in front of him. A house that grew more and more terrifying the more he looked at it.
Standing by the remains of a chicken coop, which he had no idea would still even be there, he tried to get his breathing under control.
"I'm not scared," he repeated to himself over and over. "I'm not scared."
But the more he said that, the less convincing it sounded.
He wasn't even in there two minutes before a loud distinct trilling sound sent him running back to the other side of the fence, screaming.
In truth, it was just the call of an owl, but the shock set in so fast, he didn't have time to register it. Nor did he notice that while he was climbing back over the fence, he inadvertently cut his hand on a sharp edge of chain-link, a drop of blood falling back into the yard.
"Tell them whatever you want!" he yelled in a panic to Brian, who just scoffed.
"Wimp," he said, in response to his retreating friend.
But that was when became aware of the otherworldly, mint-green glow behind him.
He looked back and saw that where is friend's blood had fallen, a mass of glowing green ooze had formed. And it was getting bigger. And taller.
One might even say it was forming a shape.
Brian whimpered before calling out to his friend.
"Wait for me!"
And with that, the area was abandoned once again.
But because it was, no one saw the small puff of black smoke that rose of from the glowing green substance.
And rather than dissipate like smoke so often normally does, it flew off into the night, with not a sign of wind anywhere.
Sean's House-11:45 AM
Over 50 miles away, in the living room a certain brick house, three girls sat in front of a TV in various positions.
Alex took the floor, while Sam and Clover opted for the couch.
"Welcome back to America's Worst Bad Hair Days," the TV announcer said.
"Here it comes!" Alex said, excitedly.
Sam looked back into the kitchen.
"Hurry up, Sean!" she called out. "You're missing it!"
"I'm going as fast as I can!" Sean responded, over the sound of clanging metal trays. "You know, when you said you wanted snacks, I thought you meant popcorn or nachos, or literally anything I didn't have to use an oven for!"
"This is a special occasion!" Clover added in. "It's not everyday you see your archnemesis get the worst bad hair day of her life on live TV!"
"I've already seen it!" Sean's voice countered. "Who do you think sent that footage in the first place?!"
The girls smiled in satisfaction. About a few days ago, Sean, while using a camcorder he had been lent for a school project, had the good fortune catch Mandy in a... less than proud moment.
At Clover's insistence, he sent the tape to a reality show that focused primarily on people's misfortunes where hair was concerned. A show that Clover happened to be a fan of.
"We know!" Sam said.
"But filming it and seeing 200 people laugh at it are two different things," Clover whispered.
"Shh!" Alex whispered loudly. "It's starting!"
On the screen, Mandy, strutting through the schoolyard, waved at numerous students, including about a dozen swooning boys, the purple highlights of her hair swaying in the breeze.
But she was so busy showing herself off that she didn't see that someone had dropped a pen in her path.
Stepping on, Mandy found herself tripping backwards into mud puddle that had been there thanks it having rained the day before.
When she sat up, her hair, once smooth and shiny like cut gem, was now tangled and covered in mud. Her smug look of confidence was now replaced by a demeanor that reminded the girls of a toddler about to have a tantrum. And where once people admired her, they were now laughing.
The girls laughed along with the audience and the people in the video.
"I haven't seen Mandy that ticked since Tyler Keith gave me his phone number!" Clover said, struggling to breathe over all her laughter.
"I know what you mean," Sam said, exhaling deeply. "She's never gonna live this down!"
"And it's all thanks to Sean," Alex added. "Speaking of which..."
She directed that last comment toward the kitchen.
"I'm coming," Sean insisted, walking into the living room, carrying a tray that had at least three of each of the teens favorite muffins. Natural bran for Alex, poppy seed for Clover, chocolate chip for Sam, and just to be fair, Sean included his favorite, cranberry.
"You know," he said, laying the tray in front of them. "They do sell these in stores."
"Well," Clover said, slowly turning. "We think they're better fre-"
But she cut herself off upon seeing Sean. More accurately, the apron he was wearing, which was pink.
The girls each blinked before bursting out into laughter again.
Sean raised an eyebrow, confused.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Sean," Sam said, snickering. "Don't take this wrong way."
"We love you and all," Alex said placing her hands over mouth.
"But we so can't take you seriously in that outfit," Clover added, laughing again.
Sean looked down at the apron, realizing he'd forgotten to take it off.
"Well," he tried explain. "This was the only one I could find. And you try getting flour stains out of this shirt."
He indicated his favorite gray V-neck.
"Well," Sam said. "Can't blame you for fashion conscious. I don't like flour on my clothes either."
Sean picked up a cranberry muffin and was about to take a bite when Alex spoke up.
"You know, I thought having Sean around would be kind of boring. But you two were right. He's practically one of the girls."
Sean dropped his muffin in shock.
"What?" he asked.
"Alex!" Clover hissed.
"Oops," Alex admitted. "I was thinking out loud again."
"What do you mean, I'm 'one of the girls'?"
"Well..." Sam trailed off.
Flashbacks
Sam and Sean were at a store in the mall, each coming out of their respective changing rooms, a different outfit each time, with Sean admiring himself in the mirror beside Sam.
He and Clover sat side by side at a hair salon, their hair under an individual dryer.
Sean sighed in pure contentment as he and Alex laid on stone slabs in a spa wearing white robes and green exfoliating mask.
The girls stood in front of him, smiling sheepishly, while Sean himself was slack-jawed in disbelief.
"So," he said, slowly. "You all think that way?"
"Well," Sam tried to explain. "Compared to most guys I know, you kind of have a feminine side."
"'Kind of' nothing," Alex said. "I'd say he's been to the spa more times than I have!"
Sam and Clover glared at her, and she clasped her hands over her mouth.
"So, what you're saying is," Sean said, trying to hide the ever growing redness on his face. "I'm not like other guys."
"Well, no," Sam clarified. "But maybe that's a good thing!"
"Yeah!" Clover hastily agreed. "I mean, you're sensitive, you actually listen to us, and you're fun to shop with!"
"And besides," Alex broke in. "It's not your fault you don't have friends who are boys!"
Sean's look of shock only grew.
"I really don't?" he asked.
Alex covered her mouth again.
"Wow, Alex," Clover said, sardonically. "I really need you as a motivational speaker... said no one ever!"
"Yeah!" Sam concurred. "You're the absolute worst at pep talks!"
"Sorry!" she defended.
"No," Sean denied. "Alex is right. You three are the only friends I actually have."
He walked back into the kitchen, taking off the apron.
Opening the refrigerator, he took a carton of milk and began pouring it into a glass.
How could he have not given it any thought before that his only friends were of the opposite sex?
And if this had happened in middle school... well, he was the subject of teasing enough as it was back then. Had he been friends with the girls earlier, it probably would have been even worse.
"Aw, cheer up, Sean!" Sam encouraged, touching his shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not completely in touch with your feminine side."
"Yeah," Clover said. "At least you don't wear makeup."
Then Sam turned to Clover.
"Uh, Clover? He did wear makeup that one time he needed to hide a pimple. You should know, you helped him."
"Oh," Clover admitted. "Right."
"Girls, I appreciate the effort," Sean said, dejectedly. "But there's no sense in trying. I'm just too..."
He couldn't even say it.
"Girly?" Alex offered.
Sam and Clover glared at their friend.
"Okay, maybe I should just stop talking."
At that moment, Sean's fridge opened on its own, sucking the four teenagers into a tunnel.
As the four screamed, Clover shout loud enough to be heard.
"Is it me?!" she asked. "Or does Jerry's timing keep getting worse?!"
The ride ended with the spies dumped onto a familiar fuchsia pillow.
Jerry stood beside his desk, smiling.
"Good morning, agents," he greeted.
Sam, straightening herself.
"Jerry," she said. "Now's not the best time."
"Yeah," Clover agreed. "Sean's feeling worse than I did that time my favorite shoe store closed down."
"Well," Jerry went on. "Nothing snaps Sean out of a bad mood like spy work."
"Somehow," Sean muttered. "I don't even think that will help."
Jerry cleared his throat before turning on the screen behind him.
Behind him were images of people, mostly boys aged 9-12, and damage to houses, playgrounds, and schools.
"Starting just last week," Jerry explained. "Numerous children have been attacked and hospitalized by an unknown assailant."
Sean and the girls gasped.
"No way!" Alex exclaimed. "The bad guys are going after kids?! That's beyond low!"
"Yeah," Sam concurred. "But where do we come in? I mean, shouldn't the police be doing something about this?"
"Well, they haven't been able to," Jerry answered. "This is footage from the most recent attack."
The screen showed about a dozen policemen and women firing their guns at... well, it was impossible to tell who it was because their back was turned to the camera.
They appeared to be wearing all black, their head covered by a hood, and wielding what looked like an axe. But most disturbing of all was that no matter how many bullets hit this person, they just kept walking forward, as if the bullets never even touched them, much less went straight through their head.
Sean's face froze in horror.
"How is that even possible?!" he asked.
"It's not," Jerry responded. "At least, not for a human." And he turned the footage off.
"Whoever this criminal is, he is endangering children all over Southern California. Thankfully, he hasn't killed anyone... yet. But that could easily change. Your mission is to investigate this attacker."
"And let me guess," Clover said. "Stop him."
"Precisely."
"Any idea where we should start looking, Jer," Sean asked.
A map appeared behind Jerry. A map of Southern California.
"Well, these attacks first began to occur and have mostly been isolated to this community in Riverside County: Mira Loma, I believe it's called."
"Riverside County?!" Clover asked. "But that's literally the middle of nowhere! Couldn't this guy strike somewhere more glamorous? Like Paris?"
"Actually," Jerry corrected. "It's not quite the middle of nowhere. It's only 50 miles east of the Los Angeles city limits."
"Like I said, middle of nowhere."
Jerry cleared his throat, his desk splitting open to reveal the gear he would be giving out.
"And now for the gadgets," he said, picking up a bright orange digital watch. "There's the Bio-Lab Watch."
He tossed it to Clover.
"Yeah," she denied. "I don't think so. Orange totally clashes with my skin tone."
She gave it to Sam.
Jerry continued to que up gadgets and toss them to the spies.
"Icetracker Breath Mint tracking devices, Thermal Imaging Contact Lenses, Expandable Cable Bungee Belts, now with improved range and durability, Tornado In a Can of Hairspray, and the tried and true Jetpack Backpacks."
Jerry tossed the spies the last backpack, which was caught by Sean.
"Oh," Jerry said. "And one more thing I have for you, Sean."
"Really?" Sean asked hopefully, practically zooming over to the desk.
"What?"
"Well," Jerry explained. "As the girls have informed me, you've been feeling a little... down. I remembered I had this, and thought it would help."
He handed Sean a small slip of paper.
Sean began to feel his spirits rise until he read the writing on it.
"'This coupon entitles you to... a free facial and pedicure at the Beverly Hills Spa?'"
He frowned, pocketing the coupon, with Jerry seemingly oblivious.
"I know how much you enjoy a little luxury every now and then."
Sean stepped back, rejoining the girls.
"Well," Jerry said. "Good luck and good hunting, spies."
He pressed a button on the desk surface, sending the spies falling through another trap door, depositing them into a car, with Clover at the driver's seat, Alex in the front passenger seat and Sam and Sean taking up the back.
Clover floored the gas pedal, and the car sped off out of a tunnel and onto the Hollywood Freeway.
Mira Loma, California-12:15 PM
Sean leaned over the side of the convertible, not even bothering to look at the road ahead of them .
"I can't believe it," he muttered, despondently fingering the coupon in his back pocket. "Even Jerry thinks I act feminine."
"I can't believe he gave free facial coupon to you and not me!" Clover complained. "I mean, have you seen my face?! If Jerry knew how much I spend to keep it looking this good after missions, he'd know I need it more!"
"Okay," Sam interjected. "We can worry about personal crises and skincare problems after we're done with our mission."
"So," Alex said from her place beside Clover. "Where do we start?"
Sam opened her Compowder.
"According to Jerry's info," she announced to the others. "We need to see a guy named Daniel Winter. Apparently, he's the cop who got the best look at the suspect."
She showed a picture of the man in question. He was middle-aged, balding, very pale, and had two bags under his eyes, suggesting he worked late.
"Ugh!" Clover said in disgust, looking at the picture. "While we're there, we should tell him to do something about that puffiness under his eyes. I mean, that cucumber facial worked for Sean, I don't see why..."
"Ahem..." Alex and Sam cleared their throats, indicating Sean in the back seat. And from the look of it, he still hadn't gotten over his... insecurity yet.
"Right," Clover said, catching herself. "Investigate baddie first, worry about Sean later."
"Make a left up here, Clover," Sam instructed as they came to an intersection. "According to Jerry's report, Winter takes a coffee break every day around this time at a place just around this corner."
Clover gripped the wheel, then turned left.
Stepping out of their car, the spies stood in front of the small and unremarkable coffee house. Indeed, the only decoration was a large neon sign of a giant mug. And since it was daytime, the sign wasn't lit.
"Okay," Sean said as he and Sam got closer to the door. "Remember, if he asks, we're private investigators."
"Weren't we that, anyway?" Alex asked.
"We're not for hire, Alex."
"Yeah," Clover agreed. "We're from Beverly Hills. Who could afford us?"
Sam and Sean rolled their eyes.
"Just try to act professional," Sam pressured as she and Sean opened the door.
Daniel Winter sat in a booth at the far end of the room, barely touching the coffee mug in front of him.
"That's our guy," Sean whispered to the girls as they walked over.
He cleared his throat.
"Mr. Winter?" he asked as clearly as he could.
"That's Deputy Winter," the man corrected. "Who wants to know?"
"I'm Sean," Sean introduced himself. "These are my colleagues Sam, Alex, and Clover."
The girls waved their hands in greeting.
"We're private investigators," Sam added.
"I see," Deputy Winter said. "What can I help you with?"
Sean and Sam took a Seat across from him while Clover and Alex remained standing.
"We were wondering if you could tell us about that guy who's been attacking kids around here," Sam explained.
Winter's eyebrows raised in surprise. "How did you four know about that?"
"Uh," Clover said, thinking fast. "We were hired by one of the kid's parents. But we can't tell you who they are."
"Yeah," Alex agreed. "To protect them."
"Well," Winter conceded. "There's not much to tell. The guy was dressed in black, always kept a hood up, and he carried an axe."
"What about his face?" Sam asked.
The man in front of him sighed. "The hood was too low; I couldn't see a face. Whoever he is though, he's been causing a lot of terror around these parts. I mean, who does this kind of thing to kids?"
He pulled out a photo of a boy laying in a hospital bed, prompting a gasp from Sean and Sam. Clover and Alex couldn't see the picture, but judging by their friends' reactions, they decided they didn't want to.
The boy in the picture was bruised all over, one eyelid was swollen shut, and a trail of blood was running down his lower lip.
And the most heartbreaking part was that he couldn't have been any older than Sean was when he first joined W.O.O.H.P.
"Who would do this?!" Sam asked, horrified.
"Ma'am," Winter said, stirring at his cup. "If we knew the answer to that, I wouldn't be sitting here."
"Okay," Sean said, shaking off the initial shock. "Do you know where these attacks started, exactly?"
"Well," Winter said. "The first report came in from a woman walking with her son. He jumped out at them pretty close to this address."
He pushed a small slip of paper across the table, allowing Sam's fingers to catch it.
Carefully unfolding the paper, she could see the address written out in clear, black letters.
"6330 Wineville Avenue."
She tucked it into her pocket, then turned back to Winter.
"You think that's were the attacker lives?" she asked.
"Not likely," he responded. "No one's lived there for decades. There's an old urban legend that the place is haunted."
Alex went still.
"Haunted?!" she asked, her voice growing higher. "As in with ghosts?! As in with trees coming to life and grabbing you?! As in with TVs sucking you inside them?!"
She began to hyperventilate.
"So much for being professional," Clover said, elbowing her friend in the ribs.
"Chill, Alex," Sam said, reassuringly. "Everyone knows there's no such thing as ghosts."
"But something real hurt those kids," Sean reminded.
He and Sam stood up, edging out of the booth.
"Thanks for the info, Deputy Winter."
"Glad to help a P.I," Winter said.
As the spies walked out the door, Clover reached into her pocket, digging for the car keys.
"Well, that got us absolutely nowhere," she said, bored. "If I'd known I was gonna be on a mission this boring, I'd have gone shopping instead."
"You'd want to do that anyway, Clover," Sean said.
"Well, so would you."
Sean was about to open his mouth to retort when a terrified voice cut him off.
"So, does this mean we can go home now?" Alex asked hopefully, clearly on edge from hearing the word "haunted."
"Not yet," Sam denied. "We may not know who this creep is..."
She trailed off, taking out the slip of paper Deputy Winter had given her.
"...but I think we have a way to find him."
"Hmm," Sean hummed, taking out his wallet phone. Typing in the address, the exact route to the location in question lined up the map on his screen.
"According to this map, it's not far from here."
"If it's abandoned," Clover said. "Maybe that's where he's hiding out."
"Could be," Sam agreed. "There's only one way to find out. Can you say stakeout?"
"Stakeout," Sean and Clover answered, high-fiving.
"You guys go on ahead," Alex said, trying to sound innocent. "I think I'll stay here and have a nice decaf latte."
She was backing toward the coffee house door when three arms dragged her away from it and back toward the car.
"I thought you were a team player, Alex!" Clover gritted, as the terrified girl tried to yank herself away.
"I am!" Alex protested. "But I told you before, I don't do places that are haunted!"
"And we told you before," Sean countered, opening the back seat door. "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, as Clover forced the crying Alex into the front passenger seat while she and Sean took the back again.
However, Sam looked down at the slip of paper, unease filling her eyes.
"But you have to admit, this mission just got a whole lot creepier."
Then she exhaled, looking closely at the name of the street.
"And why does the name 'Wineville' sound familiar?"
Abandoned Farmhouse-4:40 AM.
Sean stood at the entrance to the front yard, now in his spy uniform, closely examining the abandoned house.
It looked no different from any other house he'd seen, even at night. It was smaller than most of the houses he'd seen in Beverly Hills, though.
But there was something about the white painted exterior that struck him as... well, eerie.
Get a grip, Sean, he told himself. It's just a house. A very creepy, abandoned house.
He caught himself, realizing that Alex's fear about the place being haunted was starting to feel justified.
Speaking of which, he remembered.
Ignoring the chill going down his spine, he pulled out his wallet phone.
"Sean to Sam," he said, as the redhead's face appeared on the screen.
"Yeah, Sean?" she asked, perched somewhere in the trees surrounding the property. Similarly, Clover was on the roof of the house while Alex reluctantly took the entrance to the backyard.
"So far, I don't see anything," he informed.
"Me neither," Sam said, putting a finger under her chin. "I'm starting to think that Deputy Winter gave us a bum lead."
"If that's the case," Alex said, her face cutting into the conversation. "Why are we still here?!"
She was still freaking out, and Sean couldn't say he blamed her.
"Because," Clover said, her voice now joining them. "According to Jerry's info, all those kids were attacked around this area. And they usually happened at night."
"Ghosts come out at night, too, you know!" Alex protested.
"Will you give the whole ghost thing a rest, Alex?" Clover insisted. "I don't wanna be here anymore than you do, but if I have to go on this, we all do."
Alex pouted.
"Besides," Sam said. "Just because it looks empty doesn't mean it really is."
Sean was about to say more, when a strange sound caught his attention.
He turned around, but saw nothing but a car passing by. He shook his head in bewilderment.
To be perfectly honest, it could have been anything, then wind, a dog howling, the call of an owl or some other nocturnal bird.
But to Sean, the noise sounded... almost human.
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"I thought I heard something," he replied.
"Sorry," Clover admitted. "I sneezed."
"No, it wasn't that. It sounded like someone crying."
"What?" Sam and Clover asked in astonishment. Alex, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as curious.
"Okay," she said, smiling nervously and getting ready to fire up her jetpack. "I think I'm done here. See you back in B.H!"
But she was barely 3 feet off the ground when Sean pressed a button on his wallet phone, and in response her jetpack turned off, sending her crashing back into the yard.
"Hey!" Alex shouted. "What the hell?!"
"Sorry, Alex," Sean said. "But Jerry taught me how deactivate those jetpacks remotely. And right now, we need you to take a closer look at what's going on back there."
"But why does it have to be me?!" she complained.
"Uh," Clover butted in. "Because you're the one with the Thermal Imaging Contact Lenses?"
Alex, frowned.
"Fine," she said, giving up.
Putting the lenses over her eyes, Alex peered around the the mostly empty yard, her eyes now overlaid with a thermal camera image of the place.
"I still don't see why I always have to be the bait," she muttered.
"So what am I looking for?"
"Anything out of the ordinary," Sam replied.
"Like a yellow scarf with a purple top," Clover added.
Alex continued her search.
Then out of the corner of her eye a small mass of high temperature moved across a short distance of the yard.
"Wait!" she shouted.
This caught her friends' attention.
"What is it?" Sean asked.
"I thought I saw someone move!"
"What?" Sam shouted. "Where?!"
"By the left corner of the house!"
With that, Sean hovered over to the backyard with his jetpack, Clover zipped down from the roof with her Bungee Belt, and Sam simply jumped down from her vantage point in the tree.
Once her friends were beside her, Alex pointed to where she saw the figure,
"It was right over there!" she exclaimed.
Thinking fast, Sean turned on the flashlight function of his wallet phone. He aimed the beam at the spot Alex pointed to, a gap between the house and a small wooden structure held together with nails and mesh.
"Okay," Clover said. "Whoever it was, they disappeared faster than that limited edition nail polish at Kacy's."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Looks like they left in a hurry. That or those lenses are on the blink."
"Given how creepy this place is," Sean said. "I can't blame them for wanting to leave. Speaking of which, what do we know about this place?"
Sam pulled out her Compowder, and began to type the history of the building in.
But a loud electronic beeping snapped all of them to attention.
"That's weird," she commented.
"What is?" Alex asked, seemingly over her fear of ghosts.
"I'm getting some interference. The Compowder's picking up some weird electromagnetic field."
"Is that normal?" Clover asked.
"If we were in a nuclear power plant, sure. But here? I don't think so."
She hit the bottom of the Compowder with her palm, and her interference disappeared, giving her the results she wanted.
"That's better," she said in satisfaction. But that disappeared when she saw the history of the house they were investigating. Or to be more accurate, it's lack of history.
"Huh. There's nothing on this house in the W.O.O.H.P database. Just that it was built in the 1920s."
"Well," Sean said, holding the light steady. "If people think this place is haunted, something had to have happened here."
"Well, in any case" Clover said, beginning to walk away from them. "This was 5 hours of my life I'll never get-"
Her words were stopped abruptly by a loud splatting sound beneath her.
She lifted her foot, and to her horror and disgust, the bottom of her boot was covered in a sticky, glowing, mint-green substance.
"Ew!" she complained, prompting her friends to rush over.
"Whoa!" Alex exclaimed, grimacing in disgust. "What did you step in?!"
"I don't know!" Clover shrieked. "But I'd like to keep it that way!"
Kneeling down, Sam ran the Bio-Lab Watch over the bottom of Clover's boot and... whatever it had stepped in.
"Well, looks you're gonna get your wish," Sam announced, as the results popped up. "Whatever this stuff is, it's unknown to humans. But it contains traces of human DNA."
"Whose DNA is it?" Sean asked.
Sam shook her head.
"That's what it doesn't say. I'll have to send it to Jerry for analysis. Anyway, looks like there are no ghosts involved. See, Alex? You were freaking over nothing."
That was when the crying Sean heard before permeated the area again.
And this time, he wasn't the only one to hear it.
"Come on, Clover," Sam said, annoyed. "I know you're upset about your boots, but what kind of attitude is that?!"
"Uh, Sam?" Clover said calmly. "That wasn't me."
Sam blinked. "Wait if that wasn't you, then who-"
The crying got even louder this time.
"That's the sound I heard before," Sean informed.
Alex ran behind Clover's back, gripping her shoulders while trembling.
"See?!" she shrieked in fear. "I knew this place was haunted!"
Sean waved the light from his wallet back to where Alex had seen the mass of body heat, right over the old wooden shack.
"It's coming from over there," Sean announced.
"Well, if I were trapped in a shed that grody," Clover commented. "I'd be crying too."
"Actually, that's a chicken coop, Clover," Sam corrected.
"That's even worse!"
Sean began to walk toward it.
"Sam and I are gonna check it out," he said. "You can stay back and be our lookouts."
With Clover's objection to going anywhere near the coop, and Alex's fear of the paranormal, neither objected, though Alex was still a little freaked.
The crying only grew louder as Sam and Sean approached the dilapidated structure. Whoever was hiding in there had to have been leaning down, or crouched in a corner.
Shining his wallet phone's light inside, Sean guessed the latter option. And as he moved the beam across the sand-covered ground, he saw that he was right.
At the far corner of the coop, curled up in a fetal position... was a young boy.
A boy who was scared out of his mind, judging by the crying.
His face turned. It was very narrow, with his cheekbones just visible. His eyes were the same sparkling blue as Sean's and his hair was a light, goldish brown. And his clothes consisted only of a white shirt with black jeans, and no shoes.
The kid couldn't have been more than eight, maybe nine years old. But that wasn't what startled Sean the most.
What really startled him was the way the shirt was so baggy on him that he could see very little muscle or fat, along with his face being so hollow it looked like his eyes were about to fall out of their sockets.
Whoever this boy was, he clearly hadn't eaten in weeks.
"Oh. My. God," Sam said in shock, almost dropping her Compowder.
The boy saw them, and rapidly sitting up, tried to back away quickly, only to slam back-first into a wall of wire mesh.
"Hey," Sean said, putting his hands up, the typical sign of nonaggression that W.O.O.H.P had taught him. "It's okay, we're not gonna hurt you."
The boy, his face stained by tear streaks, looked unsure. He seemed to change his mind once he saw the beckoning gesture Sam was giving him.
As he slowly rose to a standing, position, he stumbled a little.
Thinking fast, Sean crouched down into the coop to catch him.
"Hey, take it easy. You're probably too weak to walk on your own."
The boy, still looking scared, let out a few more soft sobs.
"Hey," Sam said, kneeling down. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be alright."
She rubbed his head, trying to comfort him, then turned back to Sean.
"Weird. I thought this place was abandoned."
"Well, apparently not," Sean answered, indicating the frightened child in her arms. "But I don't think this is where he lives. If it was, why would he be hiding in an old chicken coop?"
Sam scratched her chin, deep in thought.
"Maybe he's one of the kids our guy attacked," she offered.
"Could be," Sean agreed. "But that doesn't explain why he looks half-starved."
Then Sean leaned down, smiling, trying to appear friendly.
"Is there anywhere we can take you?" Sean asked. "Like your parents? The police? Hospital?"
He thought of taking him to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, where his mother worked, but then she would ask how he found this boy, and that could potentially lead to her discovering his secret.
"I don't know," the boy said, shaking his head slowly. His breathing was now very rapid.
"Okay," Sean said. "Who are you?"
"I..." the boy hesitated. "I can't remember!"
He held his head in fear and sadness.
"This is gonna make things difficult," Sam said, as Sean began turning back to the door.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Looks like whoever he is, he has amnesia."
He stuck his head out the door, calling out to the other two spies still standing guard. Well, in Alex's case, standing behind Clover, shaking with fear.
"Alex, Clover!" he called out. "It's alright! It's just a boy!"
Hearing the word "boy" prompted Clover to change her mind about not going near the coop. She zipped over in a flash.
"A boy?!" she asked, excitedly. "Where?! Is he a hunk?!"
"Clover," Sam said, trying to break it to her gently. "He's nine."
And she stepped out of the way, revealing the child in question.
Clover's excitement passed like a very brief thunderstorm. Then she bowed her head in disappointment.
"Terrific," she said, sarcastically. "The one time I think this mission gets a little more interesting..."
Later, after Sean and Sam successfully coaxed the boy out of his hiding place, the spies stood in front of him, trying to get some answers out of him.
"Alright," Sean said, calmly. "I know you don't remember your name, but the least we can do is tell you ours. I'm Sean, and these are my friends Sam, Clover, and Alex."
"Hi!" the girls said.
The boy blinked, looking back and forth between the spies and what used to be his hiding place.
"I know you've probably been through a lot," Sean picked up. "But you've gotta help us out here. What were doing out here?"
The boy breathed in and out slowly.
"H-hiding," he admitted, stuttering.
"From what?" Alex asked.
"I..." the boy trailed off. "I don't know who it is. I never saw their face. They always kept a hood up, and... they came after me with an axe."
After a collective gasp from all four spies, the boy broke down in tears again.
"Well," Sam said. "Guess that proves our theory."
She knelt down in front of the boy, pulling out a tissue from the back pocket of her spy suit.
"It's okay," Sean said, kneeling beside her. "Whoever this guy is, we're gonna catch him."
"Um, I don't mean to sound all negative, Sean," Clover said from his left. "But this was our best chance. We spent, like, all night at this dump and we haven't even seen the guy."
"But we did find one of his victims," Sam pointed out. "Well, sort of. Anyway, guess there's nothing left to do but go home."
"Finally!" Alex cheered. "Goodbye, Creepyville!"
Sean couldn't help but agree with her.
"Hate to rain on the parade," Clover pointed out. "But what do we do about him?"
She gestured down to the boy, now seemingly exhausted from crying.
"Hmm," Sam hummed, thinking. "Well, we can't just leave him here. He has a maniac after him."
"You're right," Sean concurred, helping the boy to his feet. "Which is why we're taking him with us."
"What?!" the girls asked, almost loud enough to wake everyone on the block.
"I mean, think about it. If our suspect is after him, he'll come looking for him. When that happens, we'll be ready."
"You mean use him as bait?" Alex asked, surprised.
Sean sighed, feeling ashamed at even thinking it. "Don't worry. In case you forgot, we're spies. We can protect him."
All at once, the boy began whimpering in fear.
"Hey!" Clover broke in. "Didn't you hear Sean? We're gonna keep you safe."
Sam, worried, turned around, her eyes going wide in the dim light.
"Uh, Clover?" she asked. "I don't think it's us he's scared of."
The spies turned their heads.
In the dim light, they could see a tall, silent figure dressed all in black. The figure's face could not be seen as it was hidden under a hood.
And it made no sound other than an animalistic rasping.
"That's the guy from the footage Jerry showed us!" Sean exclaimed.
The spies each took a combat stance as inexplicably, an axe appeared in the figure's right hand.
Letting out a karate yell, Sam leapt into the air and performed a kick to the figure's chest... only for her to go right through it and land on the other side face down in the yard.
Sitting, she turned back around to their assailant, spitting out grass and dirt.
"Okay," she said. "That was weird."
Sean tried to land a punch, but that proved to be in vain too. His hand went through the figure's face, as if it had passed through nothing at all.
"I don't get it!" he exclaimed. "I can't lay a punch! It's like trying to hit smoke!"
He and Sam jumped back, shielding the frightened boy behind them.
"I told you we were dealing with ghosts!" Alex shouted, pointing at the figure, whose axe was now looking especially shiny in the dim light.
"Wait a minute!" Clover broke in. "If we can't hit him, he can't hit us, right?"
That was when the figure extended its arm to an absurdly long length and slashed the blade of the axe right across Clover's cheek, leaving a crooked smile-like cut on her face that dripped blood.
"Ow!" she complained. "Hey! I just finished putting that blush on!"
"Clover," Sam said, backing up. "Can we forget about your face and focus on more important things?!"
She and the girls dodged another swing of the blade.
"Like the fact that a creep with an axe is trying to kill us?!"
With Sean hugging the boy close to his chest for safety, the spies jumped in various different directions, with Sean and Clover landing behind the chicken coop, and Sam and Alex coming safely down in front of the fence surrounding the backyard.
"We've gotta get this kid out of here!" Sean exclaimed.
"Well, if we can't hit him," Sam said, activating her jetpack. "Fly!"
Following her lead, Sean, Clover, and Alex, with the unexpected passenger they found, took off into the softening sky above them.
Soaring away from the abandoned farmhouse, all four breathed a sigh of relief, unaware of the figure glaring up after them... paying particular attention to their direction.
"Hope you're not scared of heights," Sean told the boy dangling from his arms, who just shook his head.
Clover, in the meantime, was busy looking at her reflection in the blank screen of her Compowder.
"Who was that guy?!" she asked. "And why did he ruin my complexion?"
"Let's see," Alex began running off. "Creepy abandoned house, Compowder acting up, stepping in glowing gunk? I don't want to say I told you so, but..."
"You told us so," her teammates said in unison.
"Maybe you're right," Sean said. "Maybe there is something to this ghost thing."
"I hate to admit it," Sam said from Sean's left. "But it makes sense. I mean, all of our hits just went right through him!
"If he's a ghost," Clover interrupted, closing her Compowder. "Then who's he a ghost of?"
"We'll have to figure that out later," Sean answered. "Right now, we have to find out what to do with..."
He looked down at the boy.
"You still don't remember your name?"
"I'm sorry," the boy said, shaking his head.
"Well, whoever he is," Sam broke in. "Our ghost is gonna come after him again. We've gotta find somewhere he'll be safe."
"How do you stay safe from that?!" Alex exclaimed. "I mean, if we couldn't hit it, I don't think we're gonna help much!"
Sean hummed, deep in thought.
Then it struck him.
"I think I have an idea!" he called to the girls. "What if we hid him at W.O.O.H.P?"
"Huh?" the girls asked.
"Think about it. W.O.O.H.P has better security than the Pentagon. This guy may be a ghost, but with how paranoid Jerry can be, he'll be prepared for anything."
Sam rubbed her temples, skeptical.
"I don't know," she said. "What makes you think Jerry will like this idea?"
Sean just scoffed.
"Come on, girls. This is Jerry we're talking about. I've known him for years! Of course he'll say yes!"
"No," Jerry said, crossing his arms, stone faced, prompting the spies to fall down anime-style on the office floor.
"Come on, Jerry!" Sean said, zipping over to his boss. "How could you be so cold?!"
"W.O.O.H.P is an international spy agency," Jerry retorted, turning away. "Not a childcare facility."
"But Jer!" Sam insisted, putting her hands on the boy's shoulders. "He doesn't remember who he is! Plus, there's an axe swinging psycho after him!"
Jerry had taken a seat behind his desk.
"My answer is still no. He would be better off in the care of Child Services than us."
"No offense, Jer," Clover said. "But he's safer here than anywhere else. I mean, hello? Secret agents, remember?"
"Besides," Alex said, kneeling down beside the boy, who now looked worried. "Who can say no to this face?"
But still, Jerry wasn't moved.
"My decision is final. He'll have to go somewhere else."
Sean groaned in frustration until he remembered something he knew worked almost every time.
"Jerry," he said. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but you leave me no choice."
He turned to Clover.
"Do it," he ordered.
Taking out her Compowder, Clover pressed a button, letting Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echo around the walls of Jerry's office and her eyes went wide and her lower lip began to quiver.
Externally, Jerry remained as stoic as ever. But his eyes expressed shock and discomfort. And Sean could just make out dozens of beads of sweat pouring off of his head.
"Well," Jerry said after a while. "Since he is a key witness to your investigation, I see no harm in letting him stay in our safehouse until we can learn more about him."
"Yes!" the spies cheered, high-fiving each other.
"In the meantime, spies, I've analyzed the sample you found in that backyard. You were right, Sam; it doesn't match any substance found on this planet."
He pulled up the data of his findings on the screen behind him.
"It appears to be pure energy that has solidified into a gel-like state."
"If Alex's ghost theory is anything to go by," Sam said. "It's probably ectoplasm."
"Ecto-what?" Clover asked.
"Basically," Sean said, turning back to her. "It's what ghosts are made of."
"Oh," Clover said in recognition, before cringing in disgust. "Ew!"
"It probably came from that creep we saw in Riverside," Alex suggested. "I mean, Sammy said it had traces of human DNA."
"Speaking of which," Sean added on. "Do you know whose DNA it is, Jer?"
"Hmm," Jerry hummed thoughtfully, looking at his computer screen. "Either my computer is on the fritz or the sample is too weak to tell us anything."
"Well," Sam said. "That's not surprising. The Bio-Lab Watch couldn't tell either."
Then she remembered something.
"Oh, almost forgot."
She handed Jerry the slip of paper she had received back in Mira Loma.
"We need you to do a history check of this address. Apparently, all the attacks happened very close to this house."
Reading the address, Jerry nodded.
"I'll see what I can dig up," he said. "In the meantime, you can show our young friend to W.O.O.H.P's safehouse. He can stay there while I try to find out who he is."
W.O.O.H.P Safehouse-7:35 AM.
The safehouse turned out to be a small apartment on the seventh floor of W.O.O.H.P headquarters. It included a small living room with a view of the city, a kitchenette off to the right, and down a small hallway, there was a joint bedroom and bathroom.
But these were ignored by the boy who simply opted to fall asleep on the living room couch.
The spies watched him closely, Sam and Alex kneeling beside the couch, Clover taking one of the chairs, and Sean looked over his shoulder from the kitchenette while he sprinkled parsley onto the mixture of egg and butter he stirred into a frying pan.
"Wonder who he is," Alex commented, standing up.
"I don't know," Sam replied. "He could be a runaway."
"Yeah," Clover agreed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Running away to a nasty old chicken coop, which by the way is like a million miles away from the nearest mall! Sounds like paradise!"
"If he is," Sean said, flipping over the omelet. "What made him lose his memory?"
He looked back over his shoulder at the boy, who was sleeping peacefully.
"Guess we won't know until he wakes up."
Sam sniffed the air coming from the kitchen.
"I didn't know you could cook," she commented.
Sean smiled, blushing.
"Well, I've been helping my mom since I was a kid," he explained. "When you have a single parent who works late, you have to know this kind of stuff."
"And you're making an omelet because?" Alex asked.
"He's been on the streets for who knows how long. I mean, look at him! He probably hasn't eaten in days!"
"At least he's sleeping," Sam added.
All of a sudden, the boy began twitching.
"No," he muttered. "Please. Stop!"
The spies jerked their heads to look at him.
He thrashed all over the couch, though his arms were in crossed over his chest, as if protecting himself from something.
Clover jumped to her feet as she knelt down beside Alex in front of the couch.
"Yeah," she commented dryly. "He's sleeping like I did after I watched The Exorcist."
"Get away!" the boy said, louder this time.
Placing her hands on him, Alex shook him gently awake.
"It's okay," she whispered.
All at once, he calmed down.
"Looks like you were having a bad dream," Sam said. "You wanna tell us about it?"
The boy just shook his head again.
Sean, scooping the omelet onto a plate, placed it on the coffee table in front of the boy.
"I thought you might be hungry," he told the boy.
But he just sat still, staring blankly off into the distance.
"I'll just leave it here for when you want it."
Sean looked at the boy in sympathy. "Whoever this kid is, he's really been through... something."
"But if he's having nightmares about it," Alex said. "Does that mean he's getting his memory back?"
"Possibly," Sam said. "According to my psychology textbook, repressed memories can sometimes come back as dreams."
"Now we're getting somewhere," Clover said, rising to her feet. "Alright, kid. Why don't you tell us what you remember?"
The boy turned his gaze at her, shuddering.
"Clover!" Sean scolded. "Can't you at least try to be sensitive?"
"What?" she asked defensively. "Can't you see I'm trying to get info out of him?"
"Can't you see he clearly has PTSD?!"
"Well, I don't see you trying anything."
"I'm trying to win his trust," Sean countered Clover's argument. "Which he won't give us if you keep prodding him!"
Before Sean or Clover could raise the issue further, the small, timid voice of the boy they rescued stop them in their tracks.
"Walter."
"What?" the spies asked.
"You asked if there was anything I remember," the boy clarified. "I do. My name is Walter."
"Huh," Sean commented. "Walter. That's not a name you hear anymore."
The boy, or Walter, as he was apparently called, just shook his head.
"I'm sorry. I don't remember anything else."
"It's okay," Sam reassured. "You don't have to. But you've gotta help us anyway you can."
"Yeah," Alex agreed. "Like you could tell us why that ghost is chasing you."
"I don't know," Walter said. "He's just... always been there. In the shadows. It's like, no matter where I go, he's right behind me."
He shivered, as if expecting his pursuer to appear behind him.
Sean rubbed his chin, overcome with sympathy.
"We're not gonna let anything happen to you," he vowed. "Promise."
Meanwhile, outside W.O.O.H.P headquarters, a tall, black hooded, rasping figure walked up to the front door of the building.
An electronic panel to the right of the frame beeped.
"Unauthorized presence detected," a clear feminine voice sounded off.
But the figure responded by simply materializing its axe and slicing the panel in half, opening the automatic doors.
Jerry sat at his computer, typing relentlessly. After the spies had brought in the mysterious boy, Jerry had scanned his face into W.O.O.H.P's database, believing he could use that to pinpoint his identity.
Then he compared it to photos of children who had been known to have gone missing within the past few years.
Unfortunately, his searching appeared to be in vain. This boy, whoever he was, didn't match the description of any missing children.
"Well," Jerry said to himself. "The spies are going to disappointed."
Then he looked at the slip of paper Sam had given him.
Jerry sipped from his tea very calmly, thinking.
If he couldn't find out more about the boy, maybe the location where Sean and the girls found him would give him more answers.
As he typed the address in, he didn't know what he expected to find.
It certainly wasn't what his computer showed him.
Reading through the vast amounts of police reports, court transcripts, and newspaper articles, Jerry was stunned by everything displayed. Not to mention horrified.
"Interesting," he muttered. "So, Mira Loma is not the original name."
But nothing could have prepared him for the last thing he saw.
"God. Save. The. Queen," he swore, gasping before turning off the screen.
"I'd better inform the spies."
However, no sooner did he pull out his wallet phone did something knock it out of his hand.
He looked up from his desk to see the same figure from the W.O.O.H.P surveillance footage standing in front of his desk, the axe inexplicably retracting back into its arm.
"Who are you?!" he demanded.
The figure said nothing, then materialized its axe again. Jerry barely evaded the swing in time, before pressing a red button on the left side of his desk that he knew triggered the alarm.
"Well," Sean said as Walter finished the omelet after letting sit in front of him for a while. "What did you think?"
The younger boy had practically inhaled the omelet before gulping down a glass of orange juice that Sam had poured him.
"It's the best thing I ever tasted," Walter admitted. "Then I again, I can't remember the last time I ate anything."
"Well, if you feel like it," Sam said. "We could make you some muffins later. I mean, Sean's muffins yesterday were the bomb!"
"Even if his apron was too girly," Clover added, as she and Alex laughed.
"Ha ha ha," Sean said, flatly. "Very funny."
"Hey," Sam defended. "I think it's great he has a feminine side."
Sean looked at her shocked.
"You do?!" he asked.
Sam nodded. "If wasn't for that, we wouldn't have gotten him to trust us."
The spies smiled... but their brief reprieve only lasted a short time before the alarm sounded off.
"What's that?" Alex asked, worried.
Sean groaned. "The intruder alarm. Someone's breaking into the building."
Walter froze, as if anticipating the intruder to come into that very room.
"He's here," he shuddered.
That was when the door began to pound violently, from the outside by the look of things.
The spies each took combat stances in front of the terrified boy, while Sean, sensing that Walter could easily get separated from them, placed one of the Icetracker mints into his mouth.
The door finally broke down, letting in the the silent figure from Mira Loma.
"Stay back!" Sam warned.
The figure said nothing, but the axe it wielded appeared in its hand.
It swung it, prompting the five occupants of the room to duck, allowing the axe to slice clean through the top of a chair and leave a groove into the surrounding walls.
"This is crazy!" Clover shouted. "How do we fight someone we can't touch?!"
"We can't!" Sean shouted back as he dodged another swing, this one breaking a lamp.
Alex leapt to avoid being hit by the axe, feeling a lock of hair fall from her bangs as soon as she jumped out of the way.
Looking at her severed hair, she glared at the figure before them.
"Okay," she said, getting over her fear of ghosts. "Now it's personal!"
She jumped into the air, preparing to deliver a kick to the figure. But before her teammates could warn her that it wouldn't do any good, it hit her with the flat end of the axe, sending her flying across the room.
"Alex!" Sean and Clover shouted.
Then they turned to Walter.
"You've got to get out of here!" Sean warned.
The younger boy looked unsure, turning from Sean to the door and back again.
"I can't leave you!" he countered.
"We'll hold him off as long as we can!" Sam reassured.
Though he was still conflicted about leaving his new friends behind, Walter ran out the door... but not before Sean spat out the mint, causing it to stick to the back of the kid's shirt.
The figure turned it's glance toward the door before swinging its axe yet again at the spies, hitting each of them in the head with the flat end of it.
As he lost consciousness, Sean could only hope that Walter could survive long enough for them to find him.
"Sean?" Sam's voice echoed, as the redhead came into view. "Sean?"
His vision focused a little more, and Sam went from a big green and red blur to the beautiful girl he had always seen her as.
What a way to wake up, Sean thought happily. But his joy evaporated when he remembered what happened.
"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his head in pain. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you what happened," Clover explained. "Creepy the Unfriendly Ghost knocked us on our butts!"
Then she looked at her hand.
"Not to mention ruined my mani!"
"Be lucky it's not your neck," Sam pointed out, before looking around. "Where's Alex?"
She was answered by the sound of groaning coming from the left corner of the room, next to what used to be a planter.
Alex was struggling to sit up, looking confused.
"Alex!" Sean exclaimed, rushing over to her. "Are you okay?!"
"Yes," Alex said, seeming more confused than ever. "I happily accept the job as taste tester in your licorice factory!"
"Take it easy, Al," Sam said, kneeling down in front of her beside Sean. "You might have a concussion."
As the two helped Alex to her feet, they heard Jerry clear his throat from the doorway.
"I'm glad you four are alright," he said, his voice sounding grave.
The spies turned to Jerry, who looked paler than he usually did.
"You alright, Jer?" Sam asked. "You look live you've seen a ghost."
"That's because I have, Sam," he responded. "And so have the four of you, apparently."
"Did you get a good look at his face?" Alex asked, now having regained her senses.
"I'm afraid not. However, I have uncovered some information about our young friend that you may disturbing."
The spies looked at him, confused.
On the screen behind Jerry's desk, a black and white photo of a young boy popped into view. A boy that the spies recognized.
The face was the same, but it seemed... fuller, more enthusiastic. Happier even.
And his clothes were significantly different, consisting of a white shirt and necktie, and long corduroy pants.
"That's him!" Sean announced. "That's Walter."
"And it looks he could use some help with his fashion sense," Clover said. "I mean, hello. That look is so 90s."
"Actually, Clover," Jerry said, typing further into his keyboard. "You're off by a few decades. Seven, as a matter of fact."
He gestured to the screen and the photo displayed on it, which now had the name "Walter Collins" written along the bottom of it.
"Would you believe it if I told you this picture was taken in 1928?"
"What?!" the spies asked, astonished.
"But how's that even possible?" Sean inquired further. "That can't be him! He'd be..."
"...like, a hundred years old!" Alex picked up.
"Actually, eighty-five," Jerry clarified. "But what's truly disturbing is that the boy in this photograph went missing about a month after it was taken. He was later determined to have been murdered in what is now Mira Loma."
"Huh?" Sam said.
Sean knew the look on her face all too well. It was the one she got whenever she was on the verge of a breakthrough.
"Wait a second!" she said, pulling out her Compowder.
"What is it, Sam?" Clover asked as the results she was looking for came up on her screen.
"I knew that street name sounded familiar!" she called out at last. "It's what Mira Loma used to be called!"
"Wineville?" Sean asked. "I don't get it. Why would they change the name?"
Sam swallowed, looking a little uncomfortable.
"Perhaps I can explain that better than Sam can," Jerry answered. At that moment, another photo appeared on the screen. This one showed a young man in a plaid jacket, with dark hair and a crooked smile.
"Who's that?" Clover asked. "And why does looking at him make feel like taking a shower... or ten?"
"A Canadian poultry farmer who moved to the United States in 1924," Jerry explained. "His name was Gordon Northcott. And he's the reason Mira Loma is now called that."
"I'm almost too afraid to ask," Alex said. "What did he do, exactly?"
Jerry's face became forlorn.
"Well, I'm afraid he was responsible for the abduction, rape, and murder of at nine to twenty children in the Southern California area."
The spies shared shocked glances at each other, then looked back at the screen.
"Oh, my God," Sean said, fighting to keep himself from throwing up.
"Ugh!" Clover groaned in revulsion. "And I thought our baddies couldn't get any lower."
"Well, you won't have to worry about this one," Jerry explained. "He was arrested, tried, and executed in 1930. The town Wineville changed its name to Mira Loma in order to escape the negative publicity surrounding his crimes."
"But what does this have to do with our mission?" Sam asked.
"Not only does the boy you found match the description of one of those victims," Jerry continued as he pulled up another picture. "But the house you found him at was the same location where Northcott committed those crimes."
Sean studied the picture. It was an old one. One that depicted a farm. After only glimpsing the land, sheds and barn, his attention fell on the farmhouse.
Sure enough, it looked exactly the same as the one where they found Walter.
"Wait," Sam said. "Rewind a second. If we found Walter there, and if he is that boy in the picture, then that means..."
"...he's dead," Sean finished, thinking back to the nightmare the boy had on the couch. Suddenly, Walter's screams of terror made sense.
"See?!" Alex said, triumphantly. "Told you there were ghosts involved."
"Hold on," Clover interrupted. "If he's a ghost, how could we touch him and not that other guy?"
"No clue," Sam said. "The real question is, who is that other guy?"
Sean scratched his chin, thinking.
"Do you think it could be Northcott?" he asked. "I mean you said he died, right?"
"It's possible," Jerry answered. "This ghost wielded an axe; Northcott's weapon of choice. That being said, there's only one way to know for sure. Find out who or what this specter is, and then maybe we'll have some answers. Judging by your description, Walter appears to be its primary target. Find him and you'll find our ghost."
"Way ahead of you, Jerry," Sean said, pulling out his wallet phone. "I put an Icetracker on Walter. This way, wherever he goes in the city, we'll know."
"If he's still here," Clover said, skeptical.
"Clover, he's a kid," Sam said, looking over Sean's shoulder at the screen. "He can't get too far on his own."
After a short while, the blip representing the tracker showed up on an electronic map of the city.
"Found him!" Sean announced. "According to this, he's in Downtown L.A."
"Looks like that's where we're going," Sam said.
"I'll drive!" Alex volunteered, holding up the car keys.
"NO!" her teammates shouted in unison.
"If you're driving," Clover said sternly, snatching the keys from her. "We'll end up as ghosts next!"
Los Angeles Historic Plaza-11:45 AM
The spies' car pulled up along the street, with Clover parking next to a small, but quaint church. As they four got out, they could make out a sign next to the large, black doors.
"La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Ángeles," it read.
Sean pulled out his wallet phone, looking at the screen.
"Okay," he announced to the girls. "If the breath mint tracker is right, Walter's somewhere inside."
"Then we should be too!" Clover said, preparing to kick the door down.
"Hold on, Clover!" Sam exclaimed, stopping her. "We can't just barge in! That ghost will see us coming."
"Then how do we get in?" Alex asked.
Sean looked up at top of the church, spying two bells in a tower to the left.
"Up there!" he said, pulling out the buckle on his Bungee Belt.
Throwing it up to the tower carefully, the buckle hooked onto the edge of the alcove the bell was in, allowing him to zip up the church walls.
The girls followed him up, each one landing on the stone surface of the tower.
"Never underestimate the power of a good accessory," Clover said.
Walking through a door on the other side of one of the bells, the spies strolled down an old, creaky wooden staircase.
"So much for not drawing attention to ourselves," Sean said as another one of his footfalls prompted a loud squeak from the step he touched.
"I know what you mean," Sam said from in front of him "Let's just hope that ghost doesn't have good hearing."
Sneaking down the hallway that lead to the nave of the church, the silence of the building was shattered by the sound of a boy screaming in terror.
"No! Please! Stay away from me!"
The spies looked to each other.
"Walter," they said in unison.
Sean ran to the nave door and kicked it open.
In the center of the room, Walter was cornered by the figure, backing up against the altar.
"Get away from him, you sicko!" Sean shouted, jumping into action.
The girls repeated his action, and soon all four boxed the figure in.
The figure just materialized its axe again and began to swing at the four teenagers.
Alex leapt up into the ceiling, clinging to a chandelier. Thinking she was safe, she was proven wrong when the axe blade cut through the chain holding the chandelier aloft.
The light structure fell to the floor, and its occupant landed on her back in one of the pews.
Sam and Sean, though they knew they likely could land a single blow on the guy, kept attempting punch after punch, kick after kick.
Taking a chalice from the altar, Sam threw it at the figure, who just blocked it with his axe.
Clover, in the meantime, tried to land another kick, but just as it was back in Mira Loma, she flew right through him, colliding headfirst with a crucifix.
"It's no use!" Sam shouted to the others. "It's like this guy is made of wind!"
Recovering from her fall, Clover's face brightened up.
"Sam!" she shrieked with joy. "You're a genius!"
"Wait!" Alex said, jumping between Sean and Sam as they dodged another swing from the axe. "How is Sam a genius again? She doesn't even know how to fight this guy!"
In response, Clover pulled out the last gadget they had yet to use: The Tornado In a Can of Hairspray.
"We can't hit him!" she called out. "But maybe this can!"
Sean jumped out of the way of another of the ghost's swings.
"Are you sure that's going to work?!" he asked, panicking.
"It's hairspray, Sean!" Clover replied. "It's never let me down before!"
Pressing down the trigger on the bottle, a miniature, but powerful tornado was let loose inside the church, engulfing the figure in the strong winds.
Clover's theory was proven correct. The ghost was caught and whirled around inside the vortex.
In the process, though, a few pews came loose from the floor and the windows, stained glass or normal, began to crack.
After the tornado finally died down, the figure was dropped to the floor. And for the first time, the spies noticed, his hood had fallen back, exposing a head full of brown hair.
"All right, you freak," Sam said stepping forward. "What do you want with Walter?"
The figure turned around.
The spies were speechless.
The figure's face was not what they were expecting.
Truth be told, they had anticipated it to be face Jerry had shown them back at HQ. The face of a man who cruelly took children from their families and from the world with a shred of remorse.
But on the figure's face was the face of a young boy. The same face they had been protecting. And the same face they had found in a dilapidated chicken coop in Mira Loma.
"I am Walter," the figure said in a deep voice, devoid of emotion and not what you'd expect from a nine-year-old boy.
The spies' jaws dropped to the floor.
Walter, fear now replaced with confusion, came out from his hiding place behind the altar.
The specter which bore his face looked at him with resignation and pity, walking over to him.
Then, touching the boy's forehead with just one finger, it's body began to vanish, dissipating into smoke. Smoke that went into Walter's head.
When it was finally gone, Walter gasped, then let a single tear fall down his left cheek.
"Okay," Alex spoke up after a while. "I'm confused. This whole time we were protecting Walter... from himself?"
"And I thought Shakespeare was hard to understand," Clover commented.
"Well, there's only one person who can clear that up," Sean said, gesturing to the boy in front of them.
"Walter," Sam said. "What exactly was that thing?"
Walter just sighed.
"My memories," he answered.
The spies looked at him, confused.
"When I came back," he continued. "Something went wrong; my memories just... got away from me. But instead of disappearing, they took the form of something that could look for me."
"And it picked an axe murderer?!" Alex asked.
"It only looked like that because that was the last memory I had while I was alive. And it attacked other kids looking for me."
"So, your memories are back?" Sean asked.
"Yeah," Walter replied.
"So, what do you remember?" Clover added, quickly.
The boy just sighed. "I remember my mom giving me money to go the movies. I was on my way back home when a man pulled up to me in a car."
"Northcott," Sean said.
Walter nodded in affirmation.
"I actually knew him. My mom and I went to a grocery store he used to work at. He said he owned a ranch, then he asked me if I wanted to see it."
Then he looked down, his face turning sad.
"But he was lying. The minute we got there, he dragged me into a chicken coop and shut me in."
The spies stood still, listening further to Walter's story.
"I don't know how long it was, but the next thing I knew, he came back."
His breathing grew more frantic.
"He... he... he took my clothes off... and then..."
But Walter trailed off, his hyperventilation growing faster and faster, prompting Sean and Sam to kneel down.
"It's okay," Sean said. "We already know."
When his breathing finally calmed down, Walter reached what Sean suspected was the end of his story.
"The last thing I remember was him standing over me. He was holding an axe. There were two other people with him. I think... they took turns killing me."
"Well," Sam said, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "It's over now. You don't have to worry about him anymore."
"But why did you come back at all?" Clover asked.
"I don't know," Walter answered. "But I don't think I ever really left. I just stayed behind, so my mom wouldn't feel lonely."
He stepped backward, further away from the spies.
"But for some reason, I stayed longer than I was supposed to. Now that my memory's back, I can go."
"Go where?" Alex asked.
In answer, a beam of white light came down from the ceiling, between Walter and the four spies.
"Home," the boy answered with a smile on his face.
Sean and the girls looked up at the beam, understanding.
Walter stepped into the beam, a smile on his face.
"Do you really have to go?!" Sam asked. "I feel like we were just getting to know you!"
"I'm sorry," Walter apologized. "But I have to. My mom's waiting for me."
Sean reached out with his right hand.
"I just wish there was more we could do for you," he said.
"You did enough," Walter reassured. "You were the first friends I've had in a long time."
By this point, the boy's body began to fade into the light.
When his face was all that was left, he faced the spies directly.
"You're lucky to have each other," he said, and then finally, he was gone.
The light dimmed and the room returned to normal.
While Sean, Alex, and Sam looked almost forlorn about the loss of their new friend, Clover regarded the whole thing with an air of nonchalance (though Sean suspected it was a way of hiding her grief.)
"Okay," she said. "I'm gonna file this under the category of 'Weirdest Mission Ever!'"
Sean's House-3:27 PM
"Well," Alex said, as she sat back into Sean's couch. "Now that that's over, who's ready for a repeat performance of Mandy's worst hair day?"
She turned on the T.V, and the screen once again showed Mandy's mishap with the pen and the mud puddle.
The four teens laughed.
"Okay," Sam said through her laughter. "You've gotta admit, it's funnier the second time."
"Technically, for me," Sean pointed out. "It's the third time. I'm the one who filmed it."
Just as it went to a commercial break, Sean's watch went off.
He looked at the time, 3:30, and jumped up off the couch.
"Well, gotta go," he said, heading toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Clover asked. "I mean, it's playing again in two hours!"
Sighing, Sean took out the coupon for the Beverly Hills Spa Jerry had given him before the mission.
"The free facial coupon?" Alex asked in confusion. "I don't get it, Sean. I thought you were turned off that stuff because of what we said."
"I was," he clarified. "But after seeing it come in handy on our mission, I decided having a feminine side is nothing to be ashamed of."
He looked down at the coupon.
"Besides, it expires tomorrow, so I might as well use it."
"Well," Sam said, waving over her shoulder. "Have fun."
"Oh, don't worry. After what we just went through, I think I could use a little fun."
Then reading something else at the bottom of the coupon, he turned back to the girls.
"You know," he called out. "This coupon does say I can bring one person with me. If anyone wants to-"
At this the girls shot up.
"I do!" they all said at the same time, then turned to each other in shock.
"What?! Oh no, you don't!"
And all three began to struggle with each other over the right to go with Sean, who, disturbed by their altercation, which created a cloud in his living room, walked out the door without them.
"On second thought," he said to himself. "Maybe it'll be more relaxing if I go alone."
Phew! This was the longest chapter so far, and it took me a month to complete. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. And in case you were wondering, I was inspired to write this chapter after studying the history of California, as well as watching Clint Eastwood's Changeling.
On a related note, this chapter is dedicated to the memory of the following:
Walter Collins
Lewis Winslow
Nelson Winslow Jr.
An unidentified migrant worker.
And every other victim of Gordon Stewart Northcott.
Anyway, now that this is finished, I've decided to take a break from writing this. Don't worry, it's not a long one and I plan to resume in two weeks.
Until then, see you next time. And Happy Halloween!